OneShots
by Fashionaddict22
Summary: I write quite a few random one-shots and don't feel like having a million different stories on here :
1. Chapter 1

I hate the hustle and bustle or District 2.

I hate the gaudy decorations.

I hate the crappy bars.

I hate the slutty girls.

I hate the loneliness.

I hate how the most meaningful relationship I have now is with my answering machine.

I hate how there are no woods.

I hate being on TV.

I hate District 2.

To emphasize my point I kick a lone beer can.

Still wallowing in self-pity I don't look were I'm going and crash into someone.

She rushes off before I can say "look where you're going" clumsy idiot.

I watch her rush off. Why do I recognise that long corn silk hair, the creamy skin, the verbena blue eyes?

It's Madge Undersee.

Why is she alive?

Why is she in District 2?

Why I am relieved?

It's later when I find the crumpled paper in my coat pocket saying –

_Sorry, couldn't talk. Look up number on directory. Meet for coffee sometime? – Madge_

Then I realise maybe, just maybe.

District 2 isn't so bad at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Gale Hawthorne. Why do I love him so?

The fierce love for his family?

The all-encompassing will to survive?

How being able to hunt is actually pretty attractive?

The muscular body?

The deep grey eyes?

He loves Katniss.

He hates me.

He will never love me.

If only Madge Undersee knew how wrong she was.


	3. Chapter 3

The pesky sunrays pour in through the window waking me. I half-asleep tell them to go away but obviously it doesn't work.

Yawning, I do a half-hearted stretch and rise out of bed. Slipping my calloused feet into pink tartan slippers Posy brought for me ("Rory helped me pick them out!").

I will never admit this but they are so comfortable I kind of love them.

Not as much as the blonde lying in my – our bed.

As Vick says how the hell did I get such a gorgeous girl to marry me?

By the way thanks Vick.

She does look beautiful right now, stealing most of the covers, her tousled blonde hair splayed out across the pillow.

She won't wake anytime soon unless I call out the forces.

Time for pancakes.

If I kiss her she won't move a muscle but crack out the food and then she wakes up.

It's insulting actually.

At least she likes my food.

Predictably she comes scampering down the stairs when I'm dishing out our pancakes – complete with cream and strawberries. Her favourite.

"You know what I like" she says seductively. The light catches on her gold wedding band making me grin. I had one word engraved in it. Mine.

It's not cocky if it's true.

"You know what I'd like" I unwisely put my hand on her forearm, therefore effectively causing her to stop eating and a scowl to appear on her face which looks so alien in other circumstances I would laugh.

The scowl slips after a few seconds.

Amateur.

"If we could skip that Doctor's appointment later – we both know what the most effective method of producing babies is" I gesture towards the sofa suggestively and she rolls her eyes.

"We have been trying for over a year Gale. Katniss has had a baby by now. Katniss." Yes we were there when she was in labour and she held the baby like it was a bomb.

She is the most sickeningly loving mom now though.

"Maybe we did it wrong?" she looks confused, picks up our empty plates and walks over to the sink where she says over her shoulder "How can you do it wrong?".

"I don't know!"

"Maybe we should ask…"

"The day I ask the Mellark's for sex advice is the day the hell freezes over" she shoves a dish into the soapy water with more force than necessary and angrily grumbles.

"Well they seem to be getting it right"

I walk over, wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her exposed neck. She relaxes into me before turning around and taking my lips with hers.

"Ok we'll go" I mumble against her lips.

"We were always going to go"

Yeah who cares about my opinion I'm only the husband.

Her dragging me to our well-christened sofa stops me from being annoyed though.

- At the clinic-

"Mrs Hawthorne have you ever suffered any serious trauma?" The uptight looking female doctor says. She has lipstick on her crooked teeth.

"Well during the District 12 bombing I was taken by the Capitol and…" As she answers the uncomfortable question I tighten my arm protectively around her waist. Even though Snow has been dead for 10 years I still feel the need to protect her from the memories.

Crazy? Or Romantic?

Don't answer that.

"Well I'm so sorry Mr and Mrs Hawthorne but Mrs Hawthorne the torture you went through has rendered you infertile. There are other options available…" From the word infertile everything else might as well have been in another language.

No children. I will never have a child with my hair and her eyes. Her hair and my eyes. All her. All me.

Greasy Sae will never fulfil the longing to see a child that's a mix of us. Apparently it could take over the world. Or at least the people around their age.

The whole way back home we are both silent until just outside our home Madge speaks.

"Are you going to leave me? I understand if you do you've always wanted children so much but…"

She's cut off by me slamming my lips against hers and telling her forcefully.

"I love you more than anything in the world, I could never leave you. God It should be impossible thinking back to how we felt when we were kids how much I love you Madge"

"Gale Hawthorne I love you so much"

As I pin her against my bed I think that a life that's just be and Madge may not be so bad after all.

**I really love writing one-shots!**


	4. Chapter 4

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

Nice one Madge – resort to idiotic childhood games to decide whether or not to call him.

For some unexplainable reason I shove my mutilated daisy into my jeans pocket and push myself up, off the District 2 hill and head down back to the concrete path. Using my hands to dust off unwanted flower petals and traces of mud of my bleached skinny jeans.

My tan sandals pound down the street as I walk to my regular coffee shop. The wind blows my perpetually messy blonde hair around my face. Some gets into my eye. Fun.

Not really caring about how I look to Hanna and Spencer the waitresses and hoping I look awful when it comes to pervy Miller behind the counter I bumble into the coffee shop – smacking my hip painfully on the door as I come, with an eye that's probably bright red and I always manage to miss some of the mud on my jeans.

Running smack bang into a familiar naturally thin (if the amount of times she steals cupcakes has anything to do with it) waitress with chestnut hair. Hanna smirks at me slightly before saying "Hey Dopey, someone has been looking for you".

I faux-scowl slightly at my friend before saying "Hanna you are twenty years old as am I. I also may be small and dopey but am not male with an unfortunate dress sense so stop calling me dopey"

"Alright Dopey but seriously someone really wants to see you" she smirks again and motions towards a table in the corner.

A very familiar man with messy black hair and silver eyes sit there. Upon seeing me his faces breaks into an uncharacteristically warm smile.

I shove my hand back into my pocket and finger the last remaining petal on my poor daisy.

He loves me.


	5. Chapter 5

I hate my job.

It's pointless. Completely and utterly pointless. Do you know what the senior manager of district alliance does?

Sod all.

Apart from mind-numbing paperwork that doesn't do anything, apart from give them a reason to keep me around.

I once saw Bostok using a wedge of paper looking suspiciously like a report, that took me ages as a wedge underneath his table-leg.

I'm a valuable asset to this establishment.

Then on top of that, I have to deliver speeches to masses of suicidal looking people about a load of hippie peace and love crap.

Also I forgot my lunch today. Hells teeth.

It was my favourite as well. I had made myself a sandwich using game and a delicious creamy white paste that seemed to go with everything. Mayonnaise I think Madge called it.

I don't really care. She was too distracted by yours truly to fully complete that sentence. Hey! She'd just gotten out of the shower and I'm only human.

And male.

I listen to her normally I swear.

Anyway, the fiasco which is my pointless job. I could do absolutely nothing and no one would notice.

Bostok and his irritating wooden, pecking bird thing evidently think that I can't do anything that doesn't involve violence.

He gives me that disapproving look one more time and I'll show him that any job can be violent. Mom likes my job because she knows that I'll at least be safe.

The worst injury I have gotten here is a paper cut.

My brothers take the mick out of me and my 'fancy' job.

Posy loves watching me on TV.

Madge has banned me from talking about my job in the pretence that she'd prefer to listen to Peeta witter on about Katniss for an hour.

Her job is awful as well. The only thing that we have in common is overly friendly receptionists.

Only mine is a middle aged spinster and hers is a young, attractive guy.

It's to be expected, as not to brag but I've always had a special - gift with the ladies and she's gorgeous. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

What was I saying before? Madge always says how I have developed a tendency to ramble on about nothing until I'm on a subject completely unrelated to the original topic.

Speak of the she-devil.

Madge walks into the room carrying a brown paper bag.

Wearing an intriguing looking trench coat and black high heels. Her blonde hair flows down her body in messy waves that tickle the bottom of her ribcage. Her deep blue eyes shine mischievously and her pink lips are twisted into a seductive smirk. Her engagement ring shines on her delicate finger.

All thoughts of lunch completely abandon my mind leaving me with very, very different but much more interesting thoughts.

I'll give you a hint it involves my desk and Madge and doesn't involve a trench coat.

For some reason the only complete sentence that I could come up with is "That trench coat would look much better on the floor."

She snorts before saying "That's the worst line I've ever heard." She takes the trench coat off anyway, throwing it over my desk and revealing the lacy black underwear underneath.

"I brought you lunch"

I need to forget my lunch more often.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Gadge in this is more subtle, implied Gadge. There's plenty of peeniss (for some reason I prefer the more dirty-sounding couple names. Peeniss just goes better than Everlark- anyway). **

"Come on Katniss this one time" Peeta pleaded with his wife. Who just sat there stony faced, her hands crossed over her stomach.

"I'm not going to the Capitol Peeta" She never gave any leeway he thought venomously in his head. It's always what Katniss wants to do, how Katniss wants to do it. It is one of her few flaws. It's just he feels so strongly about this. It's something that he needs to be there for.

"Katniss, they have found a secret underground jail where Snow kept some of his most valuable prisoners and the remaining Capitol supporters house their prisoners. There's someone from twelve in there Katniss, someone who obviously was pretty important we have to go."

"Peeta after what I've been through I'm not going to the Capitol" There it is again. Katniss also has the tendency to only see her suffering. She isn't very empathetic.

Peeta stands up and looks her squarely in the eye, trying to not only get his point across in words but in his body language. It's high time he grows some balls and stands up to his wife. "Katniss, there is someone out there who has been tortured for god knows how many years and they are probably terrified – we have to see them. You aren't the only person who the Capitol hurt, in case you've forgotten the Capitol put me through two hunger games, torture, star squad and killed my entire family, so I'm going – whether or not you come with me" Katniss looks shocked. Shocked that he actually stood up to her for once and said that she was wrong.

She kind of likes it.

She stands up and gives him a long, lingering kiss before replying "Ok, let's go"

How did he suck me into this?

Maybe it was that determined look in his eyes, maybe it was the speech, maybe he caught her at the wrong (well right for him) time of the month.

I'm going soft.

So now here we stand. Me and Peeta (who looks handsome in his blue t-shirt, maybe slightly too handsome, if that female cashier has anything to do with it). Apparently they all come out of the hospital today. So we stand in the boiling sun, in my least favourite (surviving) place on Earth, waiting for some people we probably have no connection to.

I have a feeling that the pooling sweat on my palms has nothing to do with the heat.

Someone moves in front of me. It's like looking at a familiar stranger. That person in the street who you vaguely recognise but cannot put a name to the face – or back of the head.

The person in tall, very tall. Black hair cut very short – as if he's growing out a buzz cut. Lanky but muscular. Lean muscles. He keeps tapping the side of his thigh. A nervous gesture I presume. I recognise it.

I recognise it from back in District 12. Standing in his house about to face an angry mother. He'd always shrug her off in a devil may care rebellious teenager way, but when we got closer the tapping would increase. The black hair, olive skin. It's all too familiar.

"Gale?" The guy turns around confirming my suspicions. He looks good. His short hair emphasizes the angles of his face and he has a little stubble over his strong jaw. His grey eyes light up when he sees us.

"Well if it isn't the Mellark's gracing Panem with an appearance"

"Shut up Gale" We have been writing to each over and we call each over regularly. Gale has been seeing a psychologist and apparently he didn't actually love me. He loved the idea of loving me after… Well the thing is apparently when we were in the games he and Madge (yes my friend Madge) had a whirlwind romance which ended after I got back. He got confused and kissed me, she was going to surprise us in the woods and saw. Anyway apparently it restarted when I left again, he realised that he was in love with her all this time and then she died. Leaving him alone, devastated and now more sure than ever to make me his.

Still we haven't seen him since the wedding and he's grown up. We'll see him in various newspapers and on TV. In the more serious ones information about the changes he's making to our government. In the gossip-y ones the latest scandal about him and the latest girl.

They all seem to have blonde hair and blue eyes. A fact that I have pointed out multiple times. Then he asks me when I last called my own professional psychologist and it's left at that.

He knows me way to well.

We chat aimlessly for a while, every so often glancing up at the door. Waiting to see who returns.

Friend or foe? Nice or mean? Who the hell is it?

The doors open.

They do it District by district. Redheads, brunettes, blondes. Pale, black, olive. Brown, blue, green, hazel, grey. People from each District arrive to deafening cheers from their friends, families, people who live in the same district. Time seems to crawl by agonisingly slowly. Every person takes their sweet time getting out of the hospital. Until it's time for the single person from District 12.

A girl – no woman steps out. Around 20 years old. Flaxen hair tumbles down to her waist. Piercing azure eyes. Would be curvy if she hadn't been starved for years. She's obviously been in there for years. Townie. _Oh my god._

Her hair is a little longer, her eyes more haunted, her body much skinnier, her face even prettier. Obviously having reached this conclusion before I did gale is running towards her and sweeping her into a huge hug.

Madge Undersee lives.

**Who didn't guess that! Well hopefully none of you. I have to admit it's very obvious. Oh wells…**


End file.
